


night routines

by WattStalf



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Masturbation, Other, Shame, That's really all it is, every ship is onesided fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 06:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: this is literally just a fic about how the four of them do or do not masturbate, and i have no excuse for it, sorry





	night routines

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally just a fic about how the four of them do or do not masturbate, and i have no excuse for it, sorry

There are always a couple different women that come in and out of focus for Ginshi, because it’s hard to focus on just one thing like this. Because he really has no idea what he’s doing, and jumping around makes it easier not to dwell on the specifics of anything and confuse himself, and ruin the moment.

Investigator Mado is always a favorite, typically the starter, and, more often than not, the finisher. She’s gorgeous and strong and altogether unattainable, but in his imagination, she can be whatever he wants, she can be attained, and in his imagination, there is nothing that can ruin his fantasy of her. Mado will never need saving, but still, he’d like to take care of her, and he knows that she would take care of him, and his breath hitches and then-

And then there’s that girl he saw earlier in the day, the one who smiled at him. He doesn’t know  _ anything _ about her, but he bets that she’s funny, that she has a kind side, that she would know just what to say and when to say it. At the very least, he knows she’s hot, knows that he would give anything to have her squirming underneath him, or on top of him, or maybe it’s Mado on top of him now, or maybe, since this is fantasy, he could have them both? But he really doesn’t know where to begin with that, and he doesn’t even know how he would handle one woman, much less two.

Then there are Saiko’s rare appearances, that he always feels guilty about when he sees her the next day, that he sometimes feels guilty about in the moment, but goddamn, he’s only a man. He’s seen more of her thighs than he has seen anything on any real, flesh-and-blood, right-in-front-of-him woman, and he  _ likes _ what he’s seen, so can he really be blamed?

But it’s not always her, and it’s not always strangers who happened to make eye contact with him. Hell, it’s not always Investigator Mado, and sometimes it’s just models and actresses, and sometimes he isn’t sure where he’s going with it, just that he needs to get off, and soon. Sometimes he doesn’t even have to think, if he’s pent up enough; sometimes just closing his eyes and letting his hand get to work is enough.

Tonight, it’s Mado smiling at him and praising him, and he stifles his grunt as he finishes, not wanting to be overheard, and then it’s done, and he can finally start getting ready for bed.

~X~

For Kuki, everything about this process is mechanical, methodical. He doesn’t do it because he wants to, he does it because he has to, and if he could turn off the part of him that thinks it needs something like this, he would. But he can’t, so every now and then, he is stuck giving in to the more base demands of his body, just to make sure that he can get a decent night’s sleep.

Fantasies are not his strong suit, but he also doesn’t try, most nights. He knows that he is supposed to have some sort of image in his mind, but he tries to clear it completely, and is sure that he would never be able to hold onto a specific image if he tried. There isn’t anything like  _ that _ that could possibly interest him, so he does not think, mechanically working his hand up and down until he comes and can be done with it for the time being.

Every now and then, there is some flash of  _ something _ that helps him along, but it’s never specific. Some faceless woman-  _ or empty praise from some faceless man, some congratulations he knows he deserves but that doesn’t make it any less _ \- that he supposes must be his type, whatever that means. It is mechanical and it is methodical, and it is nothing special, just done out of necessity.

Then there is the night where, completely against his will, completely out of left field, he briefly pictures Shirazu, and before he can properly process this, before he can shoo that thought away, he’s already there, his climax sudden and overwhelming. And, though on most nights, finishing means finally being able to sleep, that couldn’t be farther from the truth tonight.

He can’t even begin to understand why his mind would stray like that, in the middle of something so...so...he groans in frustration, more than a little irritated that something that is supposed to be simple has now become so complicated. It should have just been a meaningless vision, an intrusive thought that amounts to nothing, but he came in that moment, and that brief burst of pleasure now has that damn image burned into his mind along with it.

It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s  _ nothing _ , he continues to repeat to himself, anything to make it true. And then, it is some time before he allows himself to take up that routine again, in the hopes that he can break himself of the habit this time, and because…

Well, once could be nothing, but if it becomes a pattern then-

~X~

He rolls over for what must be the tenth, maybe fifteenth time that night, and he sighs. Is it just him, or is it way too hot tonight? Maybe something’s wrong with the air conditioning.

Maybe that’s just an easy excuse, when he knows damn well that it’s just him.

Toru struggles to get comfortable, struggles to keep his breathing steady, struggles to keep from giving into what his body says that he wants, but that he doesn’t want; he doesn’t. It hurts, sometimes, and as he tosses and turns, there are times when his thighs land in a certain way, and he nearly cries out from the sudden sensation, and it takes all of his willpower to move and to halt that sensation.

He wants it, but he does not want it, and tonight is not going to be the night, no matter how unbearably warm it is or how hard it is to lay still, no matter what may have happened in the daylight, when he-

But he doesn’t want this, so he won’t. Not tonight, at least.

~X~

_ Ah, he was so charming! _ she thinks, as she lays back, knowing that sleep won’t come so easily tonight. No matter how exhausted Saiko may be, this has been building over the past couple hours as she strove to make sure she unlocked every possible ending her favorite character of her newest dating simulator had to offer.

By the end, though many tears were shed by some of the bad ones, by the time she got to the true, good ending, she knew it was all worth it, and now that she’s completely worn herself out, there’s only one thing left to do before she can finally sleep.

_ If only they’d up the rating a little _ , she laments,  _ then I wouldn’t have to do all the hard work myself! _ But the closer she grew to this man, the more her growing arousal nagged at her, and now she’s so hot all over, and she’s had her thighs squeezed together for the past hour  _ at least _ .

So now she spreads them just to put her hand between them and let her mind wander, sighing happily as her imagination picks up where the game left off. He’s definitely going to be a favorite, one that she might revisit in the future, but who knows what the other routes in this game might hold? She isn’t allowing herself to get her hopes up, but at that rate, it won’t be hard to exceed her expectations, so maybe…

It doesn’t take her long tonight, which is good, because she really is exhausted. If only the game had a higher rating, she laments again, because then she wouldn’t have had to do so much of the work herself.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in my writing updates, please follow my fanfiction twitter @WattStalf  
> I'll follow back so long as you don't post anything hateful!


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